“I know. You were pretty efficient. How did you do it?” asked Angus.
“I think it was Dominic,” I answered. “The local police weren’t really interested, so I rang him. He must have convinced them that I wasn’t just one more nutcase.”
When we reached the jetty again, Mr Carli and all the other residents had gone. Only Hans was left, sitting on a rock swinging his long legs, while he waited for us.
“I need clothes,” he said. “Look at me. I look filthy, yes?”
“Where will you go next?” I asked.
“Home to Germany, to my mother. She will be anxious, you know how mothers are. But I will be back, never fear.”
I knew he would be all right. He was the sort of person who could manage life, like Dominic, but with more drive and ambition.
“You can stay with us,” offered Angus.
“Thank you. That will be very nice. And you can stay with me. Jean can ride one of our great dressage horses. Germany produces many dressage horses, all of the finest calibre.”
“What about clean clothes?” I asked.
Hans patted his pockets. “I have money. It is no problem. I will wash and then go to the shops,” he said.
“Perhaps we can visit you next summer,” said
Angus. “Plus Phantom, of course, otherwise we can’t, can we, Jean?”
“Shut up,” I said.
Hans kissed us both before he left, sitting up very straight on a police boat, surrounded by policemen, waving and waving.
“Do you think we’ll ever see him again?” I asked.
“Yes, of course. I have his address. We can go there next time Dad disappears to Asia, China, or wherever he’s sent to next, and you can study dressage and I will learn German, and we’ll be very sensible. No hassle, no problem, easy as pie.”
A policeman was signalling to us, explaining that we were wanted for questioning. He was very apologetic and promised to make it as quick as possible. “Because you look awful weary,” he said.
Later on we left too. The sun had dipped behind the hills. The Highland ponies watched from a field and everything was suddenly green and empty.
“Don’t cry,” said Angus. “I can see your eyes are watering.”
“Shut up. Why should I cry?” I asked.
The policemen with us were tired and silent. The sea was calm and gentle, the sky a cloud-scattered blue. It’s the end of a dream, Ithought. A dream which went wrong.
Phantom was standing by the gate with the irises round it. He whinnied when he saw me. He looked tired and his coat smelled of the sea. But the bandage was still on and there was no blood seeping through.
The Flora Macdonald Hotel was full of middle-aged parents with children, single women and ardent birdwatchers. My room had a pink bedspread on the bed and flowered wallpaper. It was old-fashioned with a fireplace and a huge walnut wardrobe. I sat on my bed and almost at once there was a knock at the door and a slim girl appeared.
“I’ve come to lend you some clothes,” she said. “I’m a student from England working here, and you’ve been asked out to lunch by the manager of the Australian team. Mrs Macdonald thought you might need help.”
“Are you sure?” I asked. She had hazel eyes and freckles round her nose. She told me she was called Mel.
“I really think you deserve a medal,” she told me. “I do really. How ever did you swim all that way?”
I realised that the story must be all over the island now and wherever I went there would be someone staring at me. Because I was basically shy it wasn’t a comfortable feeling.
“It wasn’t me, it was Phantom. He has tremendous courage. I couldn’t have done it without him,” I said.
“If you had waited a bit, it would have been low tide,” she said, holding out a dress.
“I couldn’t wait.”
She sat on my bed while I tried on her dresses. She told me that she once owned a pony called Messenger.
I put on a plain dress, sandals and a dark blue blazer. They fitted me perfectly.
“You look marvellous,” she said. “They suit you better than they do me.” I could tell she was the sort of person who always belittled herself.
“Rubbish,” I said, looking at myself in the mirror and seeing a red face, bleary eyes and nut-brown hair stiff with salt.
“And I’m proud to have met you,” said Mel, getting off my bed and scooping up the unwanted dresses.
“Don’t be silly, I’m nothing special. Anyone else would have done the same.”
“Oh, yeah, sure. Just leave the clothes on the chair when you’ve finished with them.”
“Thank you a million times,” I said.
“The Australians will meet you in the hall in twenty minutes. Good luck,” she said, shutting the door after her.
I thought, she’s so nice and so generous, she’s hardly real. I felt quite different dressed in her clothes.
The Australians, who were called Bill and Jason, treated us to an enormous meal. I was too tired to take much in, but I remembered they offered us reward money and a trip to Australia with Phantom, and tickets for next year’s Olympics. They wanted to know every detail of what had happened several times over, paid us lavish compliments, and plied us with drinks. There were candles on the tables and red paper napkins, and the sound of the sea outside.
I remember asking them to look after the Highland ponies and I told them about the sheep which needed shearing, and because they were from Australia they understood. Some time later when we had reached the coffee stage, our parents rang. I staggered to the telephone and asked, “How did you know we were here?” Mum said, “We’re not imbeciles. As soon as we heard that the ransomed horses had been hidden on a Scottish island we knew you would be in the thick of it. We telephoned the police and we’ve been in touch for the last eight hours. Are you all right?”
“Yes, just a bit peculiar,” I answered, “and a bit too full of food.”
“We’re returning home. We’ve finished here,” she said, before Angus snatched the receiver from me.
“You don’t have to,” he said. “We are perfectly all right. We are not ten-year-olds.”
Then Dad came on the line. “Don’t talk to journalists. A national newspaper wants to buy your story. There’s also going to be a television interview,” he said.
“But we’re too tired,” replied Angus. “We want to forget the whole thing. It wasn’t fun. It was awful.”
“You can’t forget it. They won’t let you,” replied Dad. “The only thing is to organise everything in a civilised way, otherwise they’ll be fighting over you. We’ll talk about it when we meet. In the meantime, keep your mouths shut. How’s Phantom?”
“In no fit state to talk,” answered Angus, beginning to laugh.
Before going to bed, I paid Phantom one last visit. He was lying down, his pale hoofs tucked under him. I sat with him and told him that he was better than all the humans in the entire world, and the bravest horse that had ever lived. But I don’t think he understood. So I said, “We’re going home. Back to Sparrow Cottage.” And he put his head on my shoulder and shut his eyes.
Later, walking back to the hotel, I wondered how we would ever make it. Uaine was dim on the horizon, but Sparrow Cottage seemed a million miles away. I undressed and folded up Mel’s clothes and saw that clean jeans, a blue shirt and a sweater had been provided – I suddenly felt overwhelmed by so much kindness. When I lay down, my bed felt like heaven. In seconds the world floated away into a wonderful dreamless sleep.
I woke to hear a strange voice saying, “We have a visitor for you, Jean. He’s waiting downstairs in the hall. He’s come a wee way.”
Who now? I thought. “If it’s the Press, tell them to go away,” I said, without opening my eyes.
“He’s no pressman,” continued the voice, “and he wants to see you awful bad.”
It must be Hans, I thought.
“All right, I’m on my way, and thank you,” I said. I looked at the clot
hes provided – the others had disappeared. I dragged a comb through my hair and thought how terrible I looked, like someone just washed up on the beach. I put on the clothes and walked downstairs slowly, holding on to the banister because I seemed to have seized up in the night – all my joints creaked and my legs felt like lead.
I found Dominic. He was standing in the hall, suntanned and solid, holding his cap in his hand.
“I’ve come to take you home,” he said, sounding like a father fetching his daughter from a dance.
“How did you get here?” I cried.
“Aren’t you pleased?”
“Of course I am. I’m just amazed to see you. It’s like a miracle.” He looked civilised and clean, which made me twice as conscious of my own tatty appearance.
“But what about Phantom? I have to get him home too,” I cried.
Sighing, he said, “That’s the whole point, Jean, I’ve brought the trailer. It’s outside. I drove the whole night and caught the first ferry. It was full of people from the press coming to interview you, so you had better hurry. You’re both famous, Jean, didn’t you know?”
“And you are so marvellous, Dominic, we’ll never be able to thank you enough,” I cried. “Where are the press people now?”
“Having breakfast in the posh hotel.”
“What’s the time?”
“Just gone seven.”
“I’ll wake Angus,”
Twenty minutes later we were loading Phantom.
“How did you know we were here, Dominic?” asked Angus. “It’s fantastic to see you.”
“Everyone knows,” he said.
“But it’s only twenty-five past seven,” exclaimed Angus, consulting his watch.
“Exactly. Walk on, Phantom, steady. He looks in a mess. What has he done to his leg? Did you really swim with him, Jean?” asked Dominic.
“Yes, and it was terrifying.” But already the ordeal was fading, the sharp edges were growing blunt. I could no longer feel the seaweed clinging to our legs like rope, nor recall the fear I had felt as I rode him into the sea.
“I owe lots of people money, and what about the clothes I borrowed?” I asked.
“I sorted that out when I asked about the bill, which we are not allowed to pay. The clothes you borrowed are being washed and they will be returned clean to their owners, Mr and Mrs Jones. The ones you have on, you’re to post back to Melanie Heelas at the hotel. Your jodhpurs are a write-off. Okay?”
“Marvellous, except for the jodhs,” I said. Then I looked at my brother and saw that he was clean, fresher even than Dominic. “You’ve washed?” I gasped.
“Just a shower or two. You were too tired to notice yesterday. You looked like a hedgehog; your eyes had disappeared into your prickles. I’ve never seen you look like that before. You went to bed at seven, did you know?”
“I owe money for telephone calls,” I said. “And I don’t care when I went to bed.”
Angus handed me a ten-pound note. “Stick it under their door.”
“It’s too much,” I said.
“It doesn’t matter.”
So Dominic gave me a pen and paper and I wrote: This is for everything. Many thanks, Jean Simpson, and pushed it and the tenner under the door of the little farmhouse. Inside the baby was crying. I shut the gate where the irises grew.
Phantom was loaded. The ramp was up, it was time to go.
“It will be eight hours hard driving. I’ll have to stop for a kip halfway,” said Dominic, starting the Land Rover’s engine.
“We must avoid the press,” murmured Angus.
The island was coming to life as we boarded the eight o’clock ferry. Small children stood gazing at the sand as though it were paradise.
Housewifely women in aprons shook mats; a few sleepy shopkeepers were pushing up their shutters. Cows stood by a gate, and the sun was already shining above the hills.
“Heaven and hell!” exclaimed Angus, as we left the pier.
“I never thought I would see Scotland,” said Dominic, as though he had travelled miles to another world. “By the way, Killarney won the hunter class.”
“Congratulations,” said Angus.
I thought about my hat and my boots, lonely on an empty shore. Perhaps birds would nest in my hat. Perhaps years hence people would see them and ponder. Angus said my saddle did not matter.
“The national newspaper will be paying us a fortune,” he told me. “So not to worry. You can have the best saddle made to measure with forward-cut flaps and a spring tree – the lot. And I shall be able to have a motor-bike.”
Tuath was fading as the mainland grew near. I looked at the sea, but I didn’t see it. Instead I saw Angus and me going to the Olympics as honoured guests; then crossing the outback on Phantom, and suddenly anything was possible – anything in the whole world.
Dominic looked at me and smiled and I knew that we were safe now because he would never let us down.
“I shall write to Caroline in prison,” I said. “And to someone about the Highland ponies and sheep left on Uaine.” But already the last few weeks were beginning to seem like a dream.
We were approaching Teanga harbour. There was a long line of cars on the jetty and cranes reaching into the sky. We’ve come back alive, I thought, clambering down the metal steps to the hold below. Phantom was standing calmly in the trailer munching the hay Dominic had brought. I am sure he knew we were going home.
There’s not much else to tell. The journey was long and uneventful. Dominic needed to sleep the minute we had crossed the border into England. We stopped at a motorway service station and left him sleeping while we had coffee and bought a newspaper which had a terrible photograph of us taken years ago on the front page.
“Wherever did they get it?” moaned Angus. “It’s so awful!”
“It must be a school one. Look, I’ve still got baby teeth, you’re wearing a tie and your hair is all smooth and shining,” I cried.
“Do we still look like that?”
“No. We’re much scruffier now,” I said.
There was one of Phantom in another paper. He had a rosette pinned to his bridle and I was simpering at nothing through the plaits in his mane. There was a caption underneath which read: THEY SWAM TO GET HELP. Another newspaper announced that our whole exclusive story would be in their Sunday edition.
“We’ll never escape now,” moaned Angus. “We’ll be labelled for life.”
“If we have to go to court, I shall say nice things about Caroline, and I shall praise Hans to the skies, and we mustn’t forget Janet,” I said.
“I don’t think we should be horrid about Maria either. I think she was the victim of circumstances and under Mr Carli’s influence. He had a powerful personality, didn’t he?” asked Angus, loyal to the last.
“He’s not dead yet,” I said. “I think I’m going to train Phantom for horse trials. His dressage is super now and if I’m going to Germany with him, it will get even better. Caroline was a fantastic instructor,” I said. “She taught me masses and I wrote it all down on file paper so that I could remember it for ever and ever.”
“Where is it now?” asked Angus, laughing.
“Burned to ashes, I suppose,” I replied.
“But I still have this,” said Angus, holding out a little bowl. “It will be my souvenir.”
“What is it?” I asked. “It looks a bit bent.”
“Shut up. There’s no need to be jealous. I made it in pottery class, and I shall keep it for ever,” he said.
“I’m not jealous,” I answered, “because I’m going to aim for the Badminton Horse Trials and we must go to Australia. We can’t miss a chance like that.”
“Yes,” agreed Angus, “and I suppose Phantom has to come with us, but this time we’ll keep out of trouble.”
“Yes. We’ll keep our ears and eyes firmly shut,” I agreed, laughing, but I knew that we wouldn’t, because we were simply not made that way.
MORE PHANTOM HORSE ADVENTURES
We hope you enjoyed this Phantom Horse ebook. You can discover more of Jean and Angus’s exciting adventures with Phantom, their beloved palomino horse, by following the link below.
View the catalogue and buy Phantom Horse ebooks online.
1. Phantom Horse
I gazed in wonder at the view. Suddenly I saw something moving below us. It was a horse, riderless and alone. He moved beautifully and with tremendous grace. It was a wild palomino.
After Jean’s family moves to America, her life is soon changed forever when she encounters the wild horse, Phantom.
2. Phantom Horse Comes Home
“I’m not going to leave without Phantom! I refuse to leave!”
When Jean learns that her family is soon to move back to England, all she can think about is Phantom, the wild palomino horse she has tamed. Will she have to leave him behind?
3. Phantom Horse Disappears
“You’re fools! Why couldn’t you leave things as they were? Why did you come here?”
When Jean and Angus discover the terrible secret of Aunt Mary’s house, they are caught up in a dangerous plot to kidnap their beloved horse, Phantom.
4. Phantom Horse in Danger
I imagined Phantom twisting, kicking, rearing, ropes round his quarters, a blindfold over his eyes. The thought sent tears running down my cheeks like rain.
When their horses are in mortal danger, Jean and Angus hatch a desperate plan to save them. Will they be in time?
5. Phantom Horse – Island Mystery
The idyllic island where Jean takes Phantom with her on holiday hides a dangerous mystery. Why have most of the inhabitants left, and why are horses being secretly flown to the island?
Phantom Horse 5: Phantom Horse – Island Mystery Page 9